


The Ocean That Breaks

by thegrimshapeofyoursmile



Series: Terrible Love [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Anal Sex, Breathplay, Fenders, M/M, especially more angst, here is more of the brothel AU, which means more sex and angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-10
Updated: 2014-07-10
Packaged: 2018-02-08 07:52:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1932816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegrimshapeofyoursmile/pseuds/thegrimshapeofyoursmile
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was terrible, all of this, the way his heart hammered in his chest and his blood rushed in his own ears while he slid two fingers at once into Anders, Anders, who arched beneath him and let him push him down flat onto the mattress again without a word, Anders, who gripped the sheets and groaned when Fenris began to fuck him with his fingers, neither gentle nor aggressive, stretching and scissoring and opening him, making him vulnerable and human, far from being godlike as mages could be with all the power at their fingertips. </p>
<p>////</p>
<p>(Or: Fenris cannot forget and Anders cannot stop giving away himself. Both fits together just fine, if only everything is a little terrible and a little tragic.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Ocean That Breaks

**Author's Note:**

> This is for all the lovely, amazing people who wanted a sequel to "Flashing Lights" (though I think it can be read without reading "Flashing Lights" first). I hope this does you awesome lot justice, though it is more heartbreaking pain than sex, I am afraid. I am sorry ;_;  
> Anyways, I hope you'll enjoy reading!

Fenris did not sleep well these days. There was too much going on, in Kirkwall as well as in his head, which prevented him from resting properly.

He often thought about the…well, Fenris supposed it could be called encounter at the Blooming Rose he had with Anders. They had been together on missions for Hawke since then, but Anders had not said a single word about the...incident and Fenris had neither. Sometimes he thought Anders had probably forgotten about it, but then, every now and then, he caught a glance or a frown and he knew that Anders remembered. 

Still, the mage said nothing. It was completely infuriating and one evening, Fenris could no longer stand the doubts, the questions and, much to his shame, the desire. It was late when he got up from his bed where he had tossed and turned around for the last few hours and dressed before he went out into the night. It was not far from his place to the Blooming Rose and yet the way seemed to be endless. 

///

This time, Anders was dancing.

Fenris watched him, fascinated and disgusted and incredibly aroused, and he hated himself for every moment he could not tear his eyes away. For a human Anders was quite graceful, not without failure in his performance, but he carried on with such grace and charm that nobody in the Blooming Rose even seemed to notice the little slips. The mage had nothing of the femininity Danarius had tried to give Fenris by dressing him up like a doll and making him dance with movements like liquid back in the days. Instead, he was all masculine angles and rough edges despite the ring in his ear, the golden chains wrapped tightly around his lovely throat and glinting in silent competition with the coarse hair on his chest and the trail leading down on nice, not overly accentuated muscles before disappearing into the black buckskin pants Fenris recognized from his last visit. 

Fenris wanted to touch him.

It took a moment before he remembered that he could, in fact, touch him, and his steps were disgustingly hesitant while he approached the small stage. Soon enough, Anders spotted him and the crowfeet around his eyes wrinkled when he grinned at him before blowing a kiss in the general direction of an admirer and jumping down from the stage.

“Well, if that isn’t a surprise,” he purred and loosely wrapped his arms around Fenris’s neck, as if to spite him. Maybe that actually was the reason behind his behavior because Fenris could not help but notice that Anders’s eyes did not smile, even though his mouth did. “You’re not looking for me, are you?”

“What if did?” Fenris replied. He could tell that he had taken Anders by surprise with this answer because the mage narrowed his eyes and briefly licked his lips while he thought about whatever flitted through his mad brain.  
“Then I would ask you if you want to get a room,” Anders finally answered and his voice was no longer purring, though he did not pull back his arms. 

“Are you done in this—here?” Fenris asked and vaguely gestured to the stage, feeling more foolish than he would have needed to. Anders just grinned, all teeth and sharp roughness, and pulled him towards the stairs, leading him upstairs to the room Fenris already know from their last…well, encounter.

Somehow they were already kissing before they meet the center of the room and Fenris was helpless, defenseless against Anders’s striking charm. He tumbled down onto the bed with him, straddled his waist and licked into his mouth, searching, exploring, finally admitting that he had wanted this, craved for this in the past weeks. It did not matter that he still thought that Anders was dangerous; he could not understand the man and still desire him.   
The truth was, maybe it would have been easier if he would just be able to hate the mage, which he did not. He was wary of him and the demon inside his body, wary of the things he could do, wary of the monster he could become, maybe already had become- but wariness did not equal hate. Maybe he desired him so much because he knew Anders was doomed, had been doomed ever since the day he allowed the demon inside his body. It was easier to desire someone he knew he could never have a future with.

Anders laughed when he flipped him over onto his stomach, neither gentle nor aggressive, and bit into his shoulder until he drew blood that tasted coppery on his lips while he moved against the mage, pressing his hands into his hips before dragging down the black buckskin pants he wore. The muscles in his neck and shoulders strained when Fenris dragged his teeth over the sharp edges of his spine, licking and kissing and tasting. It was terrible, all of this, terrible and beautiful and he could not suppress a somewhat wild chuckle when he found his fingers magically wet while Anders threw a surprisingly soft, teasing gaze over his shoulder. 

It was terrible, all of this, the way his heart hammered in his chest and his blood rushed in his own ears while he slid two fingers at once into Anders, Anders, who arched beneath him and let him push him down flat onto the mattress again without a word, Anders, who gripped the sheets and groaned when Fenris began to fuck him with his fingers, neither gentle nor aggressive, stretching and scissoring and opening him, making him vulnerable and human, far from being godlike as mages could be with all the power at their fingertips. 

Anders gave his body away like he gave away everything else of himself as well- his possessions, his healing powers, his wishes, his dreams. Fenris wondered what there was left of the person Anders must have been before Justice- a person he only got glimpses of now, visible in the way Anders whined underneath his hands, pushing into his touch like a lovesick, half-dead puppy, visible at the rare times Anders laughed, these days. In his frantic search for freedom he had lost himself and it was terrible, and tragic, and beautiful, and Fenris craved all the terribleness, the beauty, the tragedy that came with this man, this infuriating man.

If only he had been someone else. If only things could have been different.

It felt like breaking apart when he finally was inside Anders and he was glad that he could not look him in the eyes from this position, glad that he could hide what he was feeling in a slight twist of his lips against Anders’s shoulder. It was terrible, all of this, but the scars on Anders’s back did not make him less beautiful and the way he arched up against Fenris, quietly seeking more contact, did not make him less proud. The way Anders was able to completely dismiss his pride and possible concerns and hand himself over to someone that could kill him by just phasing a hand through his chest and take out his heart, his bleeding, beating heart, was---liberating and Fenris breathed it in, this strange feeling, breathed it in and exhaled it in the rhythm he fucked Anders with, deep, long strokes, with his fingernails digging into pale flesh. He all but ripped off the leather ribbon that held Anders’s hair and watched the gold spilling over his shoulders and face. 

There was no resistance when he wrapped a hand around the golden chains wrapped so lovely around Anders’s pale throat and squeezed, just a choking sound, and another, and a flash of blue that was gone in a second. Fenris could have killed him slowly and painfully like this and all Anders did was come in a matter of moments, sucking in the breath he desperately needed in small gasps and wheezes before Fenris crushed his lips against the mage’s.

It was terrible, all of this, the way Anders murmured a small “thank you” against his lips when he let go of his throat, the way Fenris’s body hummed with twisted satisfaction and want when he came deep inside Anders. 

“Why did you come back?” Anders asked after Fenris had slipped out of him and gotten something for them to clean up; somehow, he could not bring himself to leave right away. Instead, he lingered with Anders on the bed, soft strands of gold slipping through his fingers like liquid metal. Fenris met Anders’s gaze and said nothing, but maybe it was enough, because something in Anders’ eyes softened and he nodded barely visibly, closing his eyes when Fenris carefully unwrapped the golden chains around his throat, just like he wished someone had done for him, back when. Anders was doomed, Fenris knew it, and he could never be his future if he truly wanted to heal, wanted to get away from his past. He did not need a man who gave away so much that there was nothing left but a shadow with golden hair and a sad smile.

It was terrible, all of this, and Fenris, unable to help himself out of this mess, wanted it enough to lean down for a kiss.


End file.
